


A Merry Drarry Drabble

by drarryness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Slytherin!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 20:06:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8910226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryness/pseuds/drarryness
Summary: "You don't have to say I love you to say I love you," Draco said quietly and slowly. "But I love you."





	1. Chapter 1

Draco climbed the stairs to the common room quickly, wanting to be there before Potter, his boyfriend, was. The portraits leading down to the Slytherin dorms gradually got darker and louder as he descended. Their obscenities were making his ears bleed. He grazed the cool, damp stone wall with his fingers gently, shivering at the cold that he felt through his fingers. 

Holding the copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that he got from the library, his Potions essay, and another book about Transfiguration in one hand, Draco waved his left hand over the stone wall that he came to a stop in front of. A door appeared in the stone, and as Draco grasped the handle, a thin, reedy voice nasally inquired, “Password?”

“Bubblewump,” Draco sighed. He couldn’t wait until it was changed, but the passwords were only changed every month or so. It was better than the last one, at least. After he announced he was dating Potter, the other Eighth Years somehow convinced the door to make the password something very inappropriate, but only for him. It was torture. Draco had turned flush red whenever he had to enter alone by having to murmur “I want Potter to blow me.”

The lock eased open with a click, and Draco hurriedly opened the door and ran up to his dorm, promptly dropping all of the books on his bed. He glanced at the mirror hung on the wall in the room, and combed his hair back with his hands, reflection pale. He knew Harry loved when his hair was ruffled and crazy, but Draco kept it tidy when anyone else was around. It was an intimate thing between them. It was cheesy but secretly made Draco melt inside when Harry tousled it carelessly with his hands when they were snuggling. His warm and gentle fingers would caress his scalp and stroke through his hair, joking that it was so blond Draco must have dyed it. (Of course, he didn’t, he wasn’t that much of a snob).

Draco gave himself one last look in the mirror, smoothed out a wrinkle in his robes, and went back into the common room. He went and opened a cabinet on the far side of the room and smirked at the Muggle contraption that he was looking at. For some odd reason, Potter loved things made and cooked the Muggle way. It apparently tasted better. 

With a small grin blooming across his face, Draco took out the mug he had painted one day at a strange Muggle pottery shop with Harry, remembering the huge mess the two of them had left. Harry had gotten clay stuck in his hair, and Draco had dotted a bit of red on Harry’s nose, trying hard not to laugh. To his horror, Harry had then reciprocated and brushed a green blob on Draco’s cheek. In the end, though it didn’t wash off as easily as they were told, Draco still walked contentedly into Hogwarts with Harry by his side. 

The sweet chocolate powder concoction the house elves had put together was dumped into the mug. Harry had an awful sweet tooth and said that it was so Draco “can’t steal it, you wanker”. The milk was added afterward and Draco conjured a glass and dumped it into the powder, stirring a little. The next step was to put it in the Muggle “microwave” but he had forgotten how to use it. Pressing the numbers would do something, he thought, maybe the green button.

Draco put the mug into the appliance. He pressed a few of the numbers, wincing at the loud beeps, and then pushed the green button. When it started to work, he breathed out a sigh of relief. He had to be able to create a simple drink for Potter. Draco didn’t know why he bothered making it so carefully, just the way Potter liked it. He could have just gotten one from the kitchen, or not done it at all. The prat didn’t deserve it anyways. 

He had whispered it into his ear the night before, and those beautiful, dark sea green eyes had sparkled with nostalgia as he described getting a cuppa for the first time. Even though this morning he only kissed Draco once, Potter was going to get his hot chocolate just the way he liked it. Draco didn’t want to admit it, but he was wrapped around Potter’s little finger. Unfortunately. Not like he didn’t have enough fans already. 

Draco took the cup out of the microwave when it beeped (which startled him much more than it should have). Stirring it, he delicately put his lips to the rim and sipped. He had no idea why Harry liked this kind better, but if it made him happy then so be it. 

Blaise walked into the common room, followed by Greg and a small First Year that quickly scampered to the staircase into her dorm. 

“Aww, look at Draco being all domestic and heating up hot chocolate for his lover,” Blaise cooed. “How cute.”

“Oh shove off,” Draco rolled his eyes. “You’re just jealous you don’t have someone like him.”

“Or maybe it’s because you never do anything for anyone else, yet here you are,” Greg chimed in. 

A faint tinge coloured Draco’s cheeks. “Or maybe you’ve just never noticed, Greg.”  
“Blushing! See! He must really like Potter, then,” Blaise grinned knowingly to Greg. 

Draco glared but raised his middle finger and held it up high. He heard the two chuckle, and move upstairs into the dorm. With a quiet Tempus, he checked the time as he cast a warming spell on the cup. Unless Potter had taken a long shower, which he never did on Saturdays, he should be back any minute. 

The door suddenly opened and Saint Potter himself walked in. His strong legs pushed him purposefully into the room. He glanced around and when his eyes landed on Draco he grinned. 

“Why hello, babe,” Potter said as Draco blushed again and stood up to kiss him. 

Harry’s warm and rough hands from playing Quidditch cupped his face and his lips met Draco’s. Body still tense from flying all afternoon with other Eight Years, Draco curled his hand around his boyfriend’s tight arm muscles. He felt Potter’s grin against his mouth. 

Remembering the hot chocolate, Draco broke the kiss and held it out to him. 

“I know it was cold out and that you’re probably warm, but I made you some.”  
Was that a faint blush? Potter looked down and sat down on the couch Draco had previously sat on and took the cup. He abruptly looked up at Draco, who was still standing and smiled so widely dimples appeared in his cheeks. 

“I can’t believe you did this for me. I...thank you. You remembered what I told you at one in the morning,” he stammered. 

“You’re welcome,” Draco replied suavely. “I’m not that daft that I would forget your “favourite drink ever” as your tired self-told me.” 

With that, he sat down and allowed himself a small smirk. Curled into Harry’s side, lying his head on his thighs and stomach, Draco was content.  
Potter patted him on the head. “Only because you adore me, darling.” He brought the cup to his lips, then pulled back. “Wait. Is this...did you use hot chocolate powder? And-” he narrowed his eyes in concentration-”A microwave?”  
“I did, in fact,” Draco raised an eyebrow. 

“Really? How’d you get it to work in here? I’m surprised at your determination to make it exactly the way I told you.” Harry grinned again, petting Draco’s hair with one hand. 

“You know how I feel about you touching my hair!” Draco exclaimed, grabbing Potter’s hand and pushing it away exaggeratedly.  
“And,” he continued,  
“I’m a Slytherin. I am very determined,” he pouted. 

The dweeb laughed and lightly ruffled his hair. “I want to hear. Come on.”

With a sigh Draco nuzzled his head more into Potter’s lap. “I ordered a magical one via post. I didn’t remember the name but some old wizard helped me out after I described it.” 

“Draco! No, don’t spend money on me,” Potter glanced. “I’m not that special.”

“Well I have millions of galleons, and you are special.” 

“No,” was moaned with protest. 

“Yes,” Draco replied shortly. With that he closed his eyes and intertwined his fingers with Potter’s, touching his callouses with the pads of his fingertips. 

“Fine,” Harry rolled his eyes. He ran one hand through Draco’s hair, and with the other ran his fingers down his jawline. Involuntarily, Draco shivered under his touch.  
Potter quickly pulled his hand away. 

“Is that okay?” he asked quietly, looking into Draco’s eyes. 

“Yes,” Draco affirmed. He arched his back into Potter, wanting to feel his touch again. “I’m just…” Wracking his brain, he finally decided. “I’m not used to it, that’s all. Malfoy skin is rarely touched,” he sneered. 

Potter rolled his eyes again and sighed while touching Draco’s jaw again. “Waiting for me to touch it, you mean,” he asserted cockily. 

With a snort, Draco started laughing. “No, you prat.” 

Sighing, Potter closed his eyes. “You’re very warm,” he remarked. “And comfy. And a good cuddler.”

“Oh I know I am. I’ve heard it many times before,” Draco smirked. 

“This is what happens when I try to show my love,” Potter complained loudly as Millie walked into the common room. “Millie, help me out here. Draco’s being a prat.”

“He’s always one,” Millie remarked drily. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out.”

Draco turned his head so that he was looking up at Harry. “Yeah, come on, Potter. Being a Slytherin and all you should’ve figured this out by now. Basic espionage.” 

“Hey!” he protested. “I was almost put into Gryffindor, you know.”

“I’m glad you weren’t,” Draco admitted. “I think I would’ve made a lot of different choices if I hadn’t met you.” He gulped, looking down.  
“But,” Draco continued, now whispering, “I still fucked up. I still failed everyone.”  
“He was right,” Draco mumbled into Harry’s lap. 

Potter swiftly grabbed Draco’s face with both hands. His eyes were bright and he was biting the inside of his cheek, Draco could tell. “Look at me.”

Draco forced himself to look into those bright eyes of his, neck sore from laying on his lap for so long. “You’re not going to convince me, Harry. Sometimes I just have to beat myself up for it. I have to!” he exclaimed angrily. “I messed up! There were plenty of others in my predicament and look at them now. Arms free of marks-” He held up his arm, tears threatening to overflow “-and they’re happy! Why? Why did you even chose me?”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, and Draco held up a finger. “Why in the hell would you choose to be friends with me? I can excuse my own arseholery but you stayed with me through everything. I’m nothing special! I’m the stereotypical mess. A fucking mess. I don’t deserve you! You deserve someone better than me! I’m not enough for you. There’s always going to be someone better than me. I don’t know why you’re still here. I’m my father’s son, Harry. I’m a hit and run. And now I’m even more of a mess because I can’t even keep my emotions together and I have to unravel in front of you,” he blabbered.  
Two tears, one after another, quickly trailed down his face.  
Draco sat up and put his hands over his face, and closed his eyes tightly to prevent more tears from falling. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I can’t...I can’t keep it together.” He felt angry, sad, and hopeless all at the same time, but he didn’t know how to stop them. 

Draco became aware that he was being picked up, cradled tenderly against Harry’s chest. He tried to lift his head, but Potter had laid his arm across his neck. Merlin, he was strong. Draco tried to take a shaky deep breath, and when he inhaled, all he could smell was him. The scent was the chill of the Slytherin common room mixed with a warm, smoky smell. It was the damp grass in the morning by the Quidditch pitch, the abominable treacle tart he so favoured and the silk sheets of Draco’s bed, surprisingly. He had no idea what Potter was doing. “Potter-” he started but was shushed. 

Harry must have said or wordlessly done something because Draco heard footsteps and a whisper that sounded like Blaise as Harry climbed the steps to the dorm. Draco slightly bounced as he was held tight. 

The door was open as Potter stepped past it, a faint breeze blowing a strand of Draco’s hair away from his face. Steps were firm and heavy, moving towards Draco’s bed, Draco guessed.  
Sure enough, the tell-tale sound of nonverbal magic was heard, a faint swish. Draco was finally set down, and he opened his eyes to see Potter standing over him. 

His head was under a pillow, and Harry was tucking the blanket around Draco’s chin just the way he liked it. Drained and tired, Draco felt embarrassment wash over him about the breakdown. He was sure that Potter was just going to abandon him there to go complain to Hermione or something. 

A pleasant sound of surprise emitted from Draco’s mouth as he felt weight settle around the other side of the bed as Harry come and pulled the blanket over both of them.

Harry wrapped his left arm over Draco’s shoulder and settled his hand on Draco’s belly. The unexpected warmth soothed Draco as he relaxed against Harry. 

“You’re tired, babe. I want you to sleep for a few hours, and we can talk afterward. Does that sound alright?” Potter suggested quietly, his voice a deep tremor in Draco’s ear. 

“It sounds fine. Will you stay with me?” 

Draco hated how vulnerable he sounded, but he wouldn’t sleep well if he knew he would later wake up alone. 

“I will,” He promised. 

Reassured, Draco took a deep breath. He tried to clear his head so he could sleep, and although it was hard, he eventually did. Potter’s arm was still wrapped tightly around him and his sweet breath was in his ear.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco had woken up disoriented. 

He squirmed a little, then realized that Harry had stayed with him.

He felt safe and calm in his arms and turned as stared at Potter’s calm, sleeping face.

Long lashes barely touching his cheeks, a small nose, and full lips, Draco resisted the urge to touch every part of his face gently. Potter’s hair was a wild mess in a halo around his head, even messier than usual. Draco reached out and very gingerly, his breath catching in his throat, grabbed a stray piece that had fallen into Potter’s eyes. He tucked it away behind his ear and gazed at him, then the window by the bed. It was dark outside, the water murky. The whole room was cold, but Draco hadn’t noticed it because of Potter’s body heat.

Closing his eyes and inhaling sharply, Draco watched Potter sleep lazily. Allowing himself a small grin he reflected on how grateful he was for him. Harry had been his best friend for...since first year, really. 

He remembered when he had come into the compartment and introduced himself with Greg and Vin, sneering and making a fool of himself.

Potter had frowned when Draco had said “You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.” Draco had been taken aback, and even more so when he didn’t take his hand. 

He had instead retorted “You seem not to know how to be polite, Malfoy. I was raised by muggles and even I know.” He had seemed beautifully sassy at the time, Draco recalled, although he wouldn’t understand or act on his feelings until years after.

“You should teach me, then,” Draco had sneered. 

“Fine. Sit with us, then.” Potter was bold and very Slytherin even then.

At that moment, Draco had thought, Father isn’t here, I can do what I want, and had shoved into the compartment and sat with the two boys.

At first, it had been awkward, but when Draco accidentally smeared chocolate on his nose, Ron had cracked up and soon all of them couldn’t stop. Draco had been almost crying with laughter and he hadn’t known why. Greg and Vin had even laughed, although they both later insisted it was because everyone else was. Harry had made sure that Draco knew not to insult Ron ever again, and Draco stayed true to his word. 

Draco had albeit been nervous when the Sorting Hat was placed on the small, worn stool. When Ron got placed in Gryffindor, he had become even more nervous. What if his new friend (even though he was annoying) was put in a different house? 

He was different from anyone Draco had ever met. He had lived with muggles and wasn’t a horrible person, which left Draco confused. He had called Draco out when he was rude, which no one had ever done before. He was snarky and funny and laughed a lot too. 

The hat had sat on Potter’s head for a full minute before yelling out “Slytherin!”. Students had seemed shocked, then resigned to the fact that maybe Slytherin wasn’t an evil house - the Boy Who Lived was in it, and he had defeated You-Know-Who. Draco had been happy and slowly grinned at his new friend as he sat down next to him. 

Laughing softly Draco gazed on at Potter, snuggling his face into his chest. The rise and fall soothed him and lulled him back to sleep, as Potter’s hand slowly rubbed circles on his back. 

 

“Hey. You. Wake up.” 

Draco stirred, stretching and mumbling. His bones cracked and he raised his arms above his head, twisting. He closed his eyes. “Nooo,” he mumbled. 

All at once he felt a sharp tickle under his armpits. A high pitched shriek emitted from his mouth when he tried to cover his giggle. 

“Harry! Stop it!” he exclaimed. He laughed again and yelled. “Potter!”

Potter laughed and continued to tickle him. “I’m waking you up, you wanker.” 

Draco rolled his eyes and sat up. “I’m awake, I’m awake. What time even is it?” he asked.

All around the room, lanterns were lit. Draco realized that the curtains around him were closed and the light was filtering through the top of the bed. Sounds of the other guys were around them, and he heard Greg’s voice above the din talking about dinner or something. 

“After dinner. We slept a long time,” Harry grinned. 

“Is there a silencing charm around us?” Draco asked tentatively. “Otherwise someone would’ve heard me.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t want anyone to overhear us. We should talk.”  
“I don’t really want to.”

“We should,” Harry argued. 

“Fine. What about,” Draco asked flatly. 

“Babe.” Harry sat up against the headboard. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot so please don’t disregard what I say, because I know you like to do that when you think something isn’t worth your time. Listen to me, please.”

“I don’t care that you took the Mark. It doesn’t matter to me and the only thing it did to you was hurt you, but it made you stronger in the end. I’ve seen you. When you’re unaware that someone’s watching, you’ve changed. A lot. And there was no one, and I mean no one that was put in the same situation as you. You grew up with parents that admittedly weren’t the best and you grew up with ideas that a lot of people disagree with.”

“I-” Draco interjected, but Harry continued. 

“I didn’t choose to be your friend, your boyfriend because I wanted to stab you in the back or spite you. I wanted you for you. I wanted you for all your sarcasm, your happiness at the littlest things. How that after I got to know your personality you let me in. You were vulnerable and I hurt you sometimes but you still took me for who I am. You’re not your father. You never fucking were! You defied him when you friended me. And if you’re a mess, what am I? We’re all messes, babe. You were forced to take the Mark! Anyone else would’ve done it! Your family would have died if you hadn’t! You were just a kid stuck in the crossfire of the war. It wasn’t your fault, Draco.”

Harry was flushed and a little out of breath, and he stared at Draco as he tried to speak. 

Several thoughts were going through his mind and he couldn’t decide which one to act on. “You really mean it…?”  
“Yes,” Potter affirmed. 

Draco leaned forward and hugged him tightly. “Thank you,” he muttered. “For everything.”

He got a tight hug back in return. 

The next morning Draco woke up to Potter next to him, as usual. After being up for about half an hour writing a letter to Pansy (she didn’t reply but he missed her and told her lots of things about Harry, and reaffirmed to her that yes, he was gay for Potter), Harry finally woke up. 

“Morning, darling,” he said curtly as he dipped his quill in ink. 

“No. Not a good morning.” Potter sighed exasperatedly and put his head on Draco’s lap, the letter to Pansy being lifted in the air just in time. 

“Must you always put your head on me, I don’t see why you do it.”

“Because your lap is comfortable,” he replied. 

“Fine,” Draco sighed. He continued to write his letter, reaching his arm over and absentmindedly playing with Harry’s hair. His hand neared his scar and treading carefully traced over the scar with his fingers. 

Underneath him, Potter stiffened, and gulped audibly, but didn’t say anything. The scar was smooth, like the rest of his skin, and made a small indentation on his forehead. He bit his cheek and was silent.

“Are you hungry?” he asked him once Draco finished the letter and sent it off to Pansy.

“Yeah, do you want to go down to the Great Hall and get breakfast?” 

“Yes, please, I’m surprised you haven’t heard my stomach grumble already,” Potter laughed, a grin splitting across his face. 

The two got up, and before Harry went into the bathroom he got up on his tiptoes and pecked him on the forehead. 

“You’re always going to be shorter than me,” Draco teased as he stepped away out of the bed. It was only a few differences, but Draco loved the contrast.  
Potter sneezed and he tried to glare. 

“I’d say God bless you,” Draco continued, “But he clearly already has.”

“Oh shut it,” Harry murmured, turning red. 

A smirk crossed Draco’s face and he remained silent. 

Breakfast was uneventful. Stuffing his face until it made Draco sick, he watched his boyfriend eat. The thought that he was starved as a child made him sad, but he pushed the thought away and focused on Potter himself. It didn’t matter. The past had already come and gone. But although he was very strong Draco’s heart ached for the nights he knew Harry had endured without food. 

Draco leaned his head against Potter’s shoulder and squeezed his hand, a rare public display of affection from him. 

“You’re being cute I like this,” Potter mumbled through a mouth of biscuit.

Blaise grinned from across the table. “Oh yes Draco, being cute.”

“Shut up and stop picking on my boyfriend,” Harry complained as Hermione and Ron stopped by the table on their way out. 

“Hey you two,” Draco said as Potter managed to wave as he ate some eggs.

“Harry, dear, you’re going to choke,” Hermione warned. “Hi, Draco.”

“Don’t want you to choke, mate,” Ron added in. “I don’t know why you let him eat this much,” he said, turning to Draco. 

“I don’t know either,” he shrugged back. 

“Do you two want to go outside once you’re done?” Hermione asked. 

“It’s freezing out, Hermione, I have no idea why the hell we would want to go outside,” Draco complained. 

“Oh stop whining so much,” Potter poked Draco jokingly in the side. “Yes, it would be fun. Ron and I can throw around snow or something and Draco and Hermione can talk about books.” 

The two simultaneously looked at each other. “Well, I kind of want to join in,” Draco said slowly. “Besides Hermione can teach me the logic of hitting someone in the face with a snowball,” he grinned. 

“Oh yes,” Hermione agreed. “Definitely. We’ll go get some warm things on, meet you at the door to your dorm?”

“Sure,” Draco grinned. “Come on, hurry up. They’re not going to take forever!” 

“You’re so excited, it’s a good look on you from the usual “I want death” glare,” Harry commented casually. 

Draco hit his arm. “Stop it,” he whined.  
“No, you stop it.”

“I will, but I might moan a little,” Draco smirked. 

“Draco!” Potter turned red, then glanced at Blaise, who was in a conversation with someone and lowered his voice. “You wish.”

Now it was Draco who turned red. “You got me there.”

When Potter finally finished eating, they made their way to the dorm to grab warm coats, hats, and mittens. 

“Do you want to watch a movie later?” Harry asked as he put his coat on. “I actually did my homework for once and I know you did yours.”

Draco’s face lit up. “I heard about this muggle Christmas movie called It’s A Wonderful Life. I got it to play on the thing McGonagall lets classrooms use for DADA classes, can we watch it? Please?”

“You haven’t seen it?!? We have to watch it,” Harry smiled.

Draco gave a small smile back and grabbed his hand as they met Ron and Hermione outside the common room. 

“It’s snowing,” Hermione said, “Hopefully the snow is the right conditions for making snowballs. 

“You would be the best person to know,” Draco joked. 

“But of course,” Ron and Harry added at the same time. 

The quartet continued to joke and talk as they walked outside, snow falling lightly and dusting their hats with snow. The air was sharp and crisp, the snow hard and crunchy, just right for making snowballs. Other students were wandering about, some Hufflepuffs making a snowman, Ravenclaws sitting on conjured benches and reading, Gryffindors and Slytherins engaging in a game of Quidditch. 

Draco hung back from the group as they moved to a more free space to gather snow, looking at everything. It was hard to believe winter was already here and so much had happened in just a few months. Merlin, Christmas was in a few weeks! There would be trips to Hogsmeade for butterbeer, walks with Harry around the lake, giant silver baubles in the Great Hall and big pine trees that Hagrid brought in. The dormitory and common room would be coated in red that perfectly matched the silver and green house colors, and a permanent smell of peppermint would fill the ear, the sharp and sickly scent everywhere.  
“You coming?” Harry asked, stepping close to Draco. 

Turning, he nodded. “Let’s go.” 

Draco and Hermione soon paired up, building a snow fortress against Ron and Harry. They were both experienced in wandless magic, and soon bricks of snow were floating around the place. Ron and Harry weren’t the best and were stuck manually moving them. 

Draco cast a quick warming spell over his hands as he shucked his mittens off and made a snowball, the hard ice particles hurting his skin. He crept towards Potter, his black coat and pants making it hard to blend in. Harry was oblivious to mostly everything, and Ron was busy building. Hermione did the same, and they looked at each other happily. 

Draco was close enough to Potter that he could throw the snowball, but he wanted it to be good. He crept closer, then lunged and shoved it down the back of his neck.  
“Ha!” He ran away quickly as Harry turned and made one as fast as he could, running and aiming at Draco. It missed, and Draco laughed again as he chucked another at Harry. 

With a shout, Ron threw one at Harry, then attacked Hermione. She must’ve hit him, Draco thought grimly. 

Thinking had distracted him, and a snowball hit Draco right in the face from Potter. It left him spluttering and red, his mouth full of snow. 

“Potter!” He yelled, running and throwing a poorly formed ball at him. Slowing, Potter turned tackled Draco, his heavy body pinning him to the ground. 

However, Draco was strong enough to turn them over, and he quickly grabbed a handful of snow and smashed it in Harry’s face as he yelped.

“Hermione!” Potter yelled. “Draco that isn’t fair,” he protested. With a mouth full of snow, his words were slurred and he had an adorable lisp. 

“It is fair,” Draco said, straddling him more and smirking. “You look positively lovely like this.”

It was true. Harry’s cheeks were two bright red spots, and his skin was pale against the snow, his tan almost gone. His lips were parted, breath coming out in gasps from running, a dry spot distracting Draco. Eyes bright, they shone like a child opening a Christmas present for the first time. The tip of his nose was also red, a candy cane color.

“Draco!” Potter was waving his hand in front of Draco’s face. “Stop checking me out, will you, I need to give you payback.” He was biting his cheek, and it made Draco grin to realize what kind of power he had over his boyfriend. 

“Oh go ahead, just don’t do it here,” Draco said easily as he got up and lent a hand to Potter, who glared at him. 

“When will you ever stop?” He asked. 

“Never,” Draco said cheekily. 

Potter didn’t reply and grabbed his arm, running towards Hermione and Ron, scooping up snow along the way.


	3. Chapter 3

Pants slowly getting wet from the knee down, Draco was soon numb and couldn’t feel most of his body parts.  
His cheeks and lips felt chapped, and he had long ago thrown his damp mittens on the ground in favour of none. The sun was low in the sky, and students were rapidly shuffling inside. Everyone looked exhausted and was moving slowly. 

Hermione tugged on Draco’s arm. “Do you guys want to go inside?” she questioned. 

“Yes, I’m wiped out,” Ron tiredly announced. Harry and Draco nodded in agreement. 

“That was fun,” Draco said to Harry. 

“It was,” he agreed. “We should do it more.”

The group separated to return to their common rooms. 

“Would you still like to watch the movie?” Draco asked as Harry mumbled the password and immediately sat on the couch, exhausted. 

“May as well,” Potter shrugged. Draco accioed the movie player and they sat down, the opening credits making Draco squeal. 

Harry leaned against him and sighed. “I still can’t believe you haven’t seen it.”

“I didn’t grow up with Muggles!” Draco protested. 

“I know,” Harry laughed, “But it’s cute.”

Draco heaved a sigh but didn’t protest. 

As the movie started rolling, George and Mary appeared on screen in the distinct black and white, and the two sleepily watched. 

They nestled into each other, eyes were fluttering open and shut. Later when asked, Draco could barely remember what happened in the movie, but he remembered planting a soft kiss on Harry’s cheek. 

Half an hour later, Draco was curled in Harry’s lap with his head on his chest. Both of them were sleeping lightly. Someone had put a blanket over them, no one would admit to it.

 

“Shall we wake them up?”

“No, let them sleep. Draco will be mortified, it’ll be great.” 

“Eh, it’s their fault if they miss breakfast.”

“I’m sure they can get the house elves to make them some.”

Draco slowly awoke to the sounds of other people around him. With a start, he realized he and Harry had fallen asleep together. It must be late, he realized, if people were going to the Great Hall for breakfast. He opened his eyes and tumbled to the floor, back cracking. At the same time, Harry awoke as well and raised an eyebrow as Draco stood up. 

“What a way to wake up,” Draco drawled sarcastically. 

“We must’ve been tired if we feel asleep,” Harry shrugged. “How did you sleep?”

“Alright, even though I was curled like a ball in your lap,” Draco said as he stretched and started walking up to the dorm. “You?”

“You’re like a ball of warmth,” Harry commented as he followed. “It was cosy..”

“Really. Surprising, I would’ve thought I was more made of hatred,” Draco scoffed. 

“Oh shut it, you prick,” Harry said in a loud voice over his shoulder as he walked into the bathroom. 

 

Later, after all of the classes for the day were done and dinner was eaten, Draco played Wizard’s Chess with Greg. He lost spectacularly but didn’t mind, it gave him good practice. 

“You are horrible at this game,” Greg remarked as Draco grinned happily. 

“I’ll beat you someday,” he shrugged. 

“Someday,” Potter agreed, leaning over Greg’s shoulder. “But for now you’ll be bad at it.” 

“I have homework to do, anyways.” Draco stood up and walked upstairs, and grabbed his schoolwork. He eagerly did his Potions essay, and his Transfiguration went along smoothly. 

He worked for a while, nodding and saying hey as various people went in and out. Sprawled on his bed with papers and ink all over his fingers Draco felt wonderfully free. 

With a slight bang the door opened and Harry slipped in, his bare feet against the stone floor. The light was slightly dimmed and a single, bright light was hanging over Draco’s head as he studied. 

Draco looked up. “How was chess? Or what did you even do?” He frowned, whether from what he was saying or the paper he was slouched over. His hair fell over his face annoyingly, and he brushed it out of his face quickly. 

“I kind of sat around. I probably should’ve been doing my homework, but I wanted to relax, you know?” 

“Mhm. Yeah.” Draco chewed on the end of his quill. 

Harry laughed quietly. “You’re immersed. I don’t think you even know what time it is, do you?”

“It’s probably around nine thirty or something like that,” he murmured back. Casting a Tempus he grinned and looked up. “Ten minutes off.” 

“I’m surprised,” Harry admitted, sitting at the edge of Draco’s bed, being careful not to crunch any papers. 

“Don’t be,” Draco glanced. “I’ll always surprise.”

Harry skeptically raised an eyebrow. “Definitely. Very unpredictable you are.” 

“Very,” Draco muttered. “What am I supposed to reword this to?”

“I would help but you’re better at writing,” Harry sighed. 

“No, you weren’t supposed to answer that,” Draco waved his hand in his general direction. 

An idea occurred to him all of a sudden, and he furiously scribbled on the paper, grinning. “What was the answer?” Harry asked, but Draco didn’t answer. 

He sprang forward and kissed Harry, ink-stained hand gripping his neck. His knees were on either side of Harry’s lap, and he bit Harry’s lip, hard. It was chapped and salty, and Draco sucked on it. 

Harry gave a small gasp of surprise but reciprocated, wrapping his arm around the back of Draco’s head and pulled it forward. 

Paper crinkled underneath them, but it didn’t matter. Teeth clacked together painfully in a fight for dominance and Harry’s lip became even more chapped. Small ink fingerprints decorated Harry’s neck and face as Harry deepened the kiss, tongue darting and tasting Draco’s pearly white teeth. 

Draco moaned softly, unable to hold it back. He didn’t care if anyone heard, and if they did they could get the fuck out. Harry’s arm was wrapped around Draco’s neck and body and his other hand held Draco’s jaw. Merlin, he knew Draco loved it when he did that. 

Harry broke off the kiss, looking him in the eyes. “Draco. Focus on me for a minute, babe.” 

“Why must I?” Draco whined. 

“Because. Are you...do we…?” Harry had a questioning look on his face. “I know you’re tired, you’ve been studying for three hours, and the guys are going to be up here in a little bit.”

Draco threw an angry look at the wind. “Yeah you’re right. As always.” He cracked a smile. “Now that you say it I feel very tired, you wanna retire early?”

Harry nodded and they both got off the bed and changed, brushing their teeth as they did so. The water was cold and fresh in Draco’s mouth, and his pajamas were soft against his skin. 

Soon after the two started getting ready, the other boys came up and started showering and changing as well. Blaise was the first, followed by Greg and a nameless boy Draco didn’t know. 

Harry piled Draco’s schoolwork on his own bed, then climbed into Draco’s. Draco himself soon followed, slipping into the sheets easily. Ten minutes later, with a “Goodnight mates!” Blaise turned the lights off. 

“Night, Harry,” Draco whispered quietly as he toed off his socks, kicking them away. 

“G’night, Draco,” Harry whispered back, turning on his side away from Draco, spine to spine. 

Draco closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but vivid images kept running through his head, some good and some bad. Red and orange bursts of light, green streaks. He had no idea what any of it meant but to calm himself down he focused on Harry. 

Harry had been the light in Draco’s world when everything else was dark. He was the “Expecto Patronum!” when dementors had surrounded Draco. He wasn’t always perfect, but he had beautiful imperfections. When he bit his cheek, or when he tripped on nothing, or when he was a little too oblivious - in their own ways they made Draco happy. 

When Harry was sad Draco felt for him and was able to respond in a way that made them both feel better. He had never done that before in his entire life, not even with his parents. Even when he wasn’t physically with Draco, Harry would always be there. Harry was a mess, just like Draco was. 

But they were both two beautiful messes, two stars destined to meet in the sky, two hands meant to hold each other. It didn’t mean this would last. Draco could never hope for that. But for now, it was enough. By being with Harry, by loving Harry, Draco was able to see all the power he held in himself and use it to help himself and others.

Harry didn’t fix Draco. He taught him how to love, Draco realized. 

Draco had never been sure what love was, and he still didn’t know. But he knew that love was something you felt early in the morning when it’s too cold but he’s there to keep you warm. He knew that love was waking up a little bit earlier so that you could both eat breakfast in bed. He knew that love was the ability to have something so delicate, so precious, that it was handled with such gentle force. 

He knew that love was Harry wiping the ink stains from his fingers at night. Love was splitting a scone so that the other could have some. Love was not being ashamed of your past and proudly baring your scars. Love was about sometimes not being okay, but in the end, you knew everything worked out fine.

Draco had one life (or at least he was pretty sure he did). He was done spending it sad. He was done regretting and hating the things he’d done. He had one life to be happy. He had one life and with that one life, he was going to love. 

The first person he was going to love was Harry James Potter himself.

Draco turned to face Harry, and he waited a minute before he started writing. His mother had done it to him when he was younger, and when he had been afraid to tell her things he wrote it in big block letters on her back. This time Draco went slowly, in his fine cursive, and in between Harry’s shoulder blades he traced i love you. 

 

That night, after he had written on Harry’s back and fallen asleep, Draco opened his eyes blurrily. The room was pitch black, and he heard snores and sighs from around the room. He wasn’t sure why he had woken up, but he closed his eyes and was falling back into sleep when he swore he felt fingers on his back. He willed himself to breathe normally and hoped his racing heart couldn’t be heard. What…?

Draco squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on the finger touching his back. It wasn’t what he thought it was, he knew it. A second time would probably help, but that-

I love you too

I love you too

I love you.

Draco relaxed and allowed himself to go back to sleep, joyful. 

 

“Draco! Harry!”

Harry sat up quickly and rubbed his eyes. “What? Why’d you have to wake me up before my alarm, Blaise, you know-”

“Classes are canceled today!” Blaise happily announced to the whole room. “McGonagall said it’s because one of the new professors got sick or something. She said we all needed a day off.” 

Cheers filled the room, and Draco tried to snuggle closer to Harry. He wanted to cuddle more, the stupid softy he was and knew Harry would want the same, so he closed his eyes and waited for the room to settle down. Soon enough, feet were heard scampering down the stairs with yells of laughter and the dorm became quiet once again. 

Draco heaved a sigh of relief. “Morning Harry,” he said slowly. “Do you want to just lie here for a little bit?”

“I do,” Harry said. “All your pointy angles are very appealing to me.”

“You prat,” Draco retorted. 

“Not really. Er...can I ask you something?” Harry asked. 

Draco felt like a hand was starting to constrict his lungs but calmed himself. 

“Yeah?” He turned around to face Harry, where a faint blush was slowly climbing up his cheeks. 

“Did you...did you mean what you said last night?” he mumbled. “Spelled, I mean.” His face was now a bright beet red. 

“You don’t have to say I love you to say I love you,” Draco said quietly and slowly, “But I love you.”

“Honestly, you do?” Harry asked. 

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Draco laughed. 

“Well, I love you too,” Harry said shyly. 

A happy, yellow feeling exploded in Draco’s chest. He felt high off of the earth like he was floating. He really did. He loved him back. As if compensating for his feelings, he felt himself turning bright red, blushing more than he’d ever. 

“You’re amazing,” was all Draco could mutter as he hugged Harry tightly. 

It was like a fuse went off as Draco broke the hug and they looked at each other for a second, green eyes to grey. 

Draco fell upon Harry like he had never seen skin before, their mouths met in a clash of warm heat. 

Draco flicked his wand (luckily he was holding it otherwise he wouldn’t have been focused enough to do the magic) to cast a silencing charm and shut the curtains around his bed. 

Draco tasted the inside of Harry’s cheek right where he always bit it, the soft skin tender and soft. He ran his fingers down Harry’s face, his fingers tingling. His lips were still cracked and Draco gently ran his thumb down the rough flesh. 

With a sudden show of strength Harry pushed Draco onto the sheets, hands now tangled in Draco’s soft bed head hair. Draco gasped inside his mouth, surprised. But after all, he was doing this now with none other than the Saviour of the Wizarding World, nothing could surprise him now. 

With or without Harry, Draco would always feel whole, because Harry had taught Draco how to love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! I tried to make this a cute Christmas drarry fic, but I kind of just ran with it;) more fics coming soon! If you want to stalk me I run @drarryness on Instagram!


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